Breakeven
by Lalekova
Summary: Heya One-shot


**_Breakeven_**

It's been 9 months: 9 months of awkwardness onset; 9 months of silence; 9 months of anger and frustration.

It had worked out for two years. For two years we had been really close friends. We had been a two shot, best friends. And then we'd started drifting apart.

And now all that is left are awkward scenes between the two of us. We barely ever speak more than a few polite words.

Everyone on set knows not to ever bring it up. I don't wanna talk about it and I know for sure that she doesn't either. It's like there is this unspoken rule to never end up as the last ones in a room together; never attend at the same event.

Sometimes on cast parties I find myself wondering about what has happened. What has changed and how we ended up simply ignoring each other. Those times I find myself staring at her, without realizing it. I stare at her wondering if she ever thinks about the good old times, when we used to hang out constantly. I wonder if she ever thinks back to all the sleepovers at my place, or how she met my mom on Christmas once. I wonder how the same person that had been such a huge part of my life for so long could simply be erased out of it.

I don't care too much about it in general though. I mean, I got my life and it's great and I don't really have the time to cry over some long lost friendship.

But still, there is this little part of me wondering how things could've turned out for us; if things were different now. Would I be standing at the bar between her, chord and her dancer friends instead of sitting in this corner with Chris, Dianna and Lea.

I know she doesn't care. Saying that she moved on wouldn't be the right words since there wasn't really much to move on from. If you'd ask her she would say that it's just the way it is, that friendships end, people change and drift apart. And I wanna believe it. I really wanna believe that this is what happened. That our lives just evolved in different directions; that we just didn't fit anymore. I wanna believe it so badly.

But I can't ignore the fact that deep down under the façade I knew something different had been going on.

It happened slowly, like something poisonous had been creeping up on us and our friendship without us realizing it until it was too late. And then out of nowhere our friendship hadn't been able to stand the pressure anymore; the pressure from outside, from all these people putting so much hope in our friendship.

In the beginning both of us had loved it, how people put so much thought into our friendship, how they had believed in it to be special, yes, even how they thought we'd was meant to be together as more than friends. It had been fun; Until it stopped being fun. Until suddenly none of us knew what was real and what wasn't.

I could tell that she stopped feeling comfortable displaying a friendship evolving into love at some point. I could sense it when it started happening.

And everybody else could. They stopped joking about it. They stopped talking about it and things started becoming awkward.

No she is someone else. We used to make fun about the others together about how most of our cast mates were "on/off" friends with each other, constantly bitching about each other. We used to laugh cause we knew that this couldn't happen to us since we were friends, real ones that is. At least that's what we thought. Now we turned into the same thing. It pains to see her walking around like she is someone else, like I never knew her and she never knew me. It makes me angry. I feel betrayed.

I feel betrayed cause she is the one that's freely laughing on the other side of the room, enjoying herself while I'm sitting over here overanalyzing why things turned out the way they did.

It's been 9 months.

I feel myself getting up, and walking straight towards her.

* * *

_hey guys, just something that was on my mind for some time. maybe it's a one shot, maybe not. tell me what you think then I'll decide if I'm gonna continue or not. _

_haha I don't even know what I'm doing._


End file.
